


Doubts: Broken Guide

by jane_x80



Category: NCIS, The Sentinel
Genre: 2017 NCIS Reverse Bang Challenge, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-01 14:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10923396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: The MCRT is a Guide-only team, made up of unbonded Guides that are online as well as latent, the first of its kind, and the jewel of NCIS. Tony hides a painful past: he is dormant now, broken. But when Tony is late to work one morning, he is found in a catatonic state and there is a white tiger roaring angrily in his living room. Suddenly there is a race for Gibbs and the Sentinel Guide Council to figure out what is wrong with Tony as he steadily slips away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of my two stories for the [NCIS Reverse Bang challenge](http://ncis-bang.livejournal.com/47397.html).
> 
> This is the [original artwork](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/solariana/7360051/34496/34496_original.jpg) that I was lucky enough to get! It inspired this whole story, which I hope is a little bit of a different take on the Sentinel/Guide trope.
> 
> And then, the very awesome [sexycazzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sexycazzy/pseuds/sexycazzy) who created the gorgeous artwork that inspired this story went and made even more artwork! I've scattered them throughout the story, but man, I love them all! Thank you so much, Caz! :D Check out sexycazzy's [art post here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10944711).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is set after the events of s07e12 Flesh and Blood, after the first appearance of Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. There aren't any real spoilers, per se to that episode, but I do reference Tony's behavior during it, and the fact that Gibbs and Tony had dinner together after the case was over.

[](http://imgur.com/8GKLpUq)

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a proud man. He prided himself on having few material things. He prided himself on being confident enough (or stupid enough, depending on who you spoke with) to never lock the doors of his house. He prided himself on his abilities as an investigator, as a sniper, as a marine, and as a team lead. But most of all, he prided himself on being an online Guide who worked on the front lines of law enforcement _without_ being bonded to a Sentinel.

Most people, upon meeting him, assumed that he was a Sentinel and not a Guide. He was a marine, he was able to handle himself in any kind of fight – bare knuckled fist fights, knife fights, firearms of all types. Granted, he hadn’t actually done any sword fighting or jousting, but if he needed to, he could train on it and had no doubts about his ability to best his opponent on that as well. Also, he was blessed with an almost Sentinel-like ability to sneak up on people, and he had exceptional hearing. He liked masking his abilities as a Guide. He was in no way ashamed of them, but he liked being able to confuse people, and keeping everyone on their toes around him.

But yes. Gibbs was a Guide, unbonded, and fucking proud of it. And then, he went and managed to assemble an exceptionally successful Major Case Response Team that was made up entirely of Guides, online and latent. All of whom were, like himself, not bonded to a Sentinel. It hadn’t happened by design or anything. When Gibbs first joined NCIS, he had been recruited by and continued to pair with a Sentinel, one with the biggest balls ever, Mike Franks, and they had worked very well together. Franks treated him like a regular Probie instead of like a delicate Guide to be coddled and protected. Which meant that Gibbs had been his lackey, his unappreciated partner, and someone Franks trusted to watch his back. Gibbs had found the attitude refreshing. Given that he’d come online after such a traumatic experience, even his own marine squad, the people he was closer to than any sibling could ever be, were treating him differently. Gently instead of with its usual brusqueness, and that grated on Gibbs’ nerves. He had not suddenly become a delicate flower. Online or not, he was still and would always be that tough as nails marine sniper. So he liked being Franks’ partner, given that Franks never gave him that special Guide treatment.

It had been an odd pairing and most people had thought that Franks must have been fucking Gibbs. But theirs had not been that kind of a relationship. Gibbs had just lost his wife and daughter and had come online because of that trauma. He was mostly a big ball of pain at the time, and he just felt broken inside. He was not in any kind of place to even be thinking about sex, not even the kind of anonymous random sex that he sometimes felt he needed. All Franks wanted was for him to do his job. He trusted and depended on his Probie to have his six and to close cases with him, fuck the whole Sentinel/Guide bullshit crap (Franks’ words, not Gibbs’). Which, at the time, Gibbs had been more than happy to do. And after Franks left, he’d continued along that vein, completely ignoring Sentinel/Guide sensibilities whenever he could, and flouting it when he could get away with it, doing as he pleased a la Franks, as long as the case was closed and justice served.

And then came Burley. Burley had also been a Sentinel. But Burley had had a tough time working with and for Gibbs. It wasn’t so much that the man had an issue reporting to a Guide per se, but he really did seem to take Gibbs being completely unaffected by him or his Sentinel-ness very personally. He seemed to keep waiting for Gibbs to make a move on him, unable to fight the natural attraction between a Sentinel and a Guide who were in close quarters practically sixteen hours a day, every day, and it seemed to confuse him when Gibbs never did. Hell, it wasn’t like Gibbs was purposely rejecting his attempts at perhaps not necessarily bonding with him, but just at something more than a platonic colleague relationship, but Burley just somehow never registered on Gibbs’ senses. Burley was someone Gibbs used for casework, and it literally could have been anyone else in his place. The poor man barely registered as a person in Gibbs’ eyes, much less as a viable Sentinel bondmate. All Gibbs cared about was the case and the job. It was hard for Gibbs to even remember the man’s name. So even though they’d worked together fairly successfully for five years, Gibbs had been happy when Burley finally requested a transfer. Their working relationship had been starting to unravel by this time, and Gibbs was starting to doubt Burley’s sanity and his emphasis on the supposed need for a Sentinel and a Guide to be whatever the hell it was he thought they were supposed to be to each other. After Burley left, it had been nice not to have to keep seeing expectation and the inevitable disappointment in Burley’s eyes and bombarding Gibbs’ senses with his stupid feelings.

What _was_ surprising was where Burley had ended up transferring to. Although Sentinels were generally never given the position of Agent Afloat, Burley had happily accepted it, apparently preferring to be surrounded by water and movement and sound twenty-four/seven – anathema to a Sentinel – rather than keep working for Gibbs. He’d been a low-level Sentinel, at any rate. Not a truly gifted one. So maybe the constant dull headache and threats of zoning was acceptable to him. If Gibbs had spared any thought about it, he would’ve wondered if perhaps he should think about changing at least one or two of his ways if he could drive a Sentinel away to live in those usually unacceptable and painful conditions, but in all honesty, Gibbs barely gave Burley another thought once the man left his immediate sphere. At most, he huffed in annoyance at the extra paperwork that he had to complete himself now that he no longer had a teammate to share it with (read, delegate it to).

Then Gibbs found Detective Anthony DiNozzo of the Baltimore Police Department when the man tackled him in a dark alley, and everything changed. DiNozzo was registered with the SGC as a Guide, but he was not online. People assumed that he was latent, like the majority of the people were who were registered with the SGC. However, according to Gibbs’ sources, DiNozzo was a dormant Guide. DiNozzo was quite possibly even more broken than Gibbs was. His records were sealed, because he had come online as a child, and had then become dormant before gaining his majority. The SGC would never disclose the exact reasons as to why anyone, Sentinel or Guide, would come online or go dormant. These stories were intense and personal, and it was up to the individual themselves to talk about them. Of course, the fact that it was unheard of for a minor to come online made DiNozzo’s story even more mysterious. But the man never talked about it, not even when he was falling down drunk. He never ever mentioned his status as a dormant Guide. He would talk your ear off about anything and everything, but nothing that came out of his mouth was ever truly personal. He was probably incapable of opening up about himself to anyone. And given that he had come online and gone dormant during his childhood, there were probably many good reasons that DiNozzo chose to hide himself behind all manners of masks of the typical affable, fun, shallow good-time guy, and Gibbs wasn’t going to upset DiNozzo’s well crafted equilibrium. After all, he nursed his own painful secrets. DiNozzo was entitled to his own private pain.

It was a fucking shame that Gibbs thought he was one of the most beautiful physical specimens he’d ever seen. He’d even thought about pursuing a relationship with the man, partly as a kick in the balls for the powers that be, to have a Guide-Guide pairing be a successful one. Because who the hell needed a goddamned Sentinel in order for a Guide to be ‘safe’ in law enforcement or the military? But in the end, Gibbs decided he didn’t need to break Rule 12 and ruin the great working relationship that he and DiNozzo had immediately had. Gibbs knew himself – three ex-wives later, he knew that there was no way he wouldn’t be the one to fuck the relationship up. Gibbs was completely unable to move past Shannon and Kelly. He was always the one to blame for his subsequent marriages crumbling. And while he wasn’t proud of his three divorces, he wasn’t stupid enough to think that he would change himself for anyone, not even DiNozzo. And DiNozzo was emotionally fragile, even though he projected brash arrogance and overconfidence. Gibbs was always aware that DiNozzo held a huge ball of hurt hidden within himself. Gibbs had seen how he’d been absolutely heartbroken when his fiancé – the accursed Wendy – had left him at the altar. DiNozzo would not survive a relationship with Gibbs. And he knew that losing DiNozzo would leave a hole in his life that was almost as big as the hole left by Shannon and Kelly. And he’d come online when he felt them die. So it was better to keep his distance and maintain a professional work relationship rather than risk losing DiNozzo altogether.

DiNozzo had gotten under his skin somewhere along the way. He was everything Gibbs would have wanted. He was able to practically read Gibbs’ mind at work and out of work, he took care of all the stupid shit that Gibbs didn’t care about from paperwork, to stocking his desk with only his favorite type of clicky ballpoint pens – what? Those clicky ballpoint pens worked _really_ well. Gibbs wasn’t too sure about it, but he thought DiNozzo also made sure he always had bourbon in his basement, and if he wasn’t wrong, DiNozzo probably came over and cleaned his house when he was drunk on a bender every so often. Either that, or Gibbs apparently got blind drunk and had the ability to obsessively clean while passed out. And on top of that, at work, DiNozzo was brilliant. The kind of investigator that was both intuitive, thorough, and thoughtful, although he wrapped himself in the persona of a partying frat boy. DiNozzo might have gone dormant somewhere in his tragic past, but he never let it stop him or even slow him down. Gibbs was pretty sure that dormant or not, DiNozzo was still a strong empath. The way he was able to get witnesses, victims, even perpetrators to bend to his will and answer the sometimes unasked questions was nothing short of amazing. Which meant that before he’d peaked and fizzled out as a child, he must have been one hell of a Guide. A Guide who had never been able to realize his full potential and abilities before he went dark. And, to top it all off, DiNozzo, the dormant, broken Guide could do all of this while he looked as if he’d just walked off of a catwalk in Paris or Milan or some shit like that.

Sometimes the world was not at all fair, Gibbs thought. But he lived with it because he would rather continue to work with DiNozzo than have a short lived – and no doubt intensely passionate – sexual relationship with him followed by a lifetime of regrets when he had to work alone again. DiNozzo was worth much more to him as a friend and colleague than as a bed warmer, no matter how beautiful he found the man, both inside and out.

Look at the way DiNozzo had contributed to the team. _DiNozzo_ had actually been the one to help him recruit the other talented Guides for his team, the ones that had remained and ended up becoming the team with the highest solve rate of all time. They had had an awful time when Sentinel Blackadder had been assigned to them and were happy when their time with her ended. But then slowly DiNozzo had helped to flesh out the rest of the MCRT. Gibbs would never admit it but DiNozzo reverse-psychologized him into hiring Caitlyn Todd. And then he’d whined and bitched about wanting McGee on hand to be someone for him to slap around. After all, Gibbs had him as a whipping boy, so he asked for McGee to be his own personal whipping boy (DiNozzo’s words, not Gibbs). And Gibbs had to admit, he did enjoy watching DiNozzo haze the bejesus out of the poor little junior agent, and he was also able to see that there was a method to DiNozzo’s madness. The shy young man was abruptly pulled out of his shell and challenged into standing his ground, gaining confidence, and forcing himself to face up to who he was and learn to be comfortable with himself. It was a thing of beauty to watch DiNozzo superglue the man into being a passable field agent. And Gibbs hated to admit it but McGee helped round out the skills of their team: Gibbs was there to crack skulls and bully their way when needed, Kate was able to do the profiling, McGee to hack his way into whatever shit database that was hiding the information that they needed, and DiNozzo to make those crazy-ass intuitive leaps of brilliance in practically all of their cases, and to do everything else that needed to be done, carefully wrangling everything – from Gibbs’ bourbon inventory and housekeeping to the team’s interactions with everyone, including other LEOs and other NCIS teams. DiNozzo also carefully took care of team dynamics, ensuring that everyone knew that Gibbs was the Boss and his ability to seem like a slacker made even his own teammates underestimate him, which Gibbs knew the man did on purpose. Why he did this was above Gibbs’ pay grade, but hell, the man had come online and gone dormant as a child. DiNozzo was broken. DiNozzo knew it, and he knew that Gibbs knew it too. But it didn’t stop either of them from working together with an ease that came straight from the start of their interactions. Regardless, DiNozzo knew how to build a team and how to get Gibbs to agree to hire them. Despite his underhanded ways at getting people on the team, Gibbs could appreciate the actual thought and consideration that DiNozzo had done in helping him put together their team.

Todd had been a low-level Guide, trailblazing her way through the Secret Service. She had been a great addition to the team, bringing her profiling talent with her. And while McGee was technically ‘latent’, his ability to coax technology into doing what he wanted had to be something more than just coincidence. He had to be tapping into his latent abilities. DiNozzo was gleefully waiting for some major trauma to hit the man and make him come online any day. He’d drunkenly confessed to Gibbs one night that he was kind of hoping one of these days he’d superglue McGee into coming online out of sheer frustration, and wouldn’t that just be the best thing ever? Which also privately became something Gibbs started to hope for every time the junior agent found himself superglued to some object or other.

And then when they had lost Kate, lost her to an assassin on that rooftop on that terrible day, Director Shepard had placed a Mossad liaison on the team, a latent Guide, Ziva David. There was some upheaval, but DiNozzo had managed to help the team regain their equilibrium. And the new team started to work together well. DiNozzo was the one to contort himself to ensure that the MCRT continued to gel together and work well.

The NCIS’s MCRT was the crowning glory of all the federal agencies – a team consisting completely of unbonded Guides, on the front lines of violent crimes, terrorism, and other normally Sentinel-dominated fields. It was a beacon for Guides everywhere that a Guide didn’t need to be bonded to a Sentinel in order to be strong and dominant. A Guide didn’t need to be _protected_ by Sentinels. A Guide could do everything that a Sentinel or a mundane could do in whatever field they wanted to pursue, online or not, bonded or not.

And that was perhaps, the thing that Gibbs was most proud of to date. And he was proud that he had been able to share all of this with DiNozzo without fucking it up by fucking him up with complicated and doomed relationships outside of work. Or so Gibbs kept telling himself as he kept eyeing his attractive second in command every single day.

[](http://imgur.com/jgYFPhI) [](http://imgur.com/jgYFPhI) [](http://imgur.com/jgYFPhI)


	2. Chapter 2

[](http://imgur.com/8GKLpUq)

It was after 0900 on the Monday morning after DiNozzo Senior had shown up at NCIS for the first time during his son’s long years and numerous life-threatening injuries there. DiNozzo Senior had thrown his own selfish agenda ahead of doing what was right for his estranged son, and now Tony was late to work. McGee and Ziva had both run into the bullpen a minute before 0800. But there was no sign of DiNozzo. Gibbs listened to the snide remarks McGee and Ziva were exchanging, before he frowned and looked at his watch again. DiNozzo was never late without calling Gibbs. If he had a dentist appointment or if his car broke down, or if he’d woken up from a drunken hookup or whatever the case might be, he always gave Gibbs a call to let him know what the hell was going on. Even during the La Grenouille op, Tony had given him a heads up if he was running late, which meant Gibbs had at that time known that Tony had a girlfriend. At any rate, Tony always called Gibbs when he was going to be late, and then when he strolled into the bullpen, by tacit agreement, Gibbs was to openly reprimand him and Tony would give him that shit-eating grin, and Gibbs would try not to feel warmed by the twinkle in his amazing green eyes. But this morning, Gibbs’ phone had been adamantly silent, and his gut was clenching.

He dialed Tony’s number again – the third time that morning. It immediately routed him to Tony’s peppy outgoing voicemail message. He ended the call without leaving a third message. The first message he’d left had been a simple “You’re late. You better be bringing coffee in.” The second had more of a “You better not be lying dead in a ditch somewhere, DiNozzo” feel to it. It had reeked of furious worry. If he’d left a voicemail again, it would have most certainly devolved into desperate requests for reassurance. Gibbs reached out into the building with his senses: DiNozzo was _not_ in the building. It wasn’t so much that Gibbs was able to single out his breathing or his heartbeat, like he would have been if he was a Sentinel. But one of Gibbs’ talents was the ability to feel out people, and once he got their psychic ‘scent’, he could identify them again but only within a certain proximity to him. He wasn’t able to just pinpoint where a person was in the entire city, or even in the entire Navy Yard. But DiNozzo, he would definitely have been able to feel him if he had been in the building. He was especially attuned to DiNozzo. And usually, even though DiNozzo wasn’t online, he could usually feel a little something, a small indescribable little niggle, in the back of his mind that he’d identified to be the younger agent’s presence. This morning, the presence was just not there. It had been missing. And it was upsetting him not to feel Tony in his mind like he usually did. That blankness where DiNozzo should be was wrong and disturbing.

He should have just gone straight to Tony’s apartment instead of coming to work when he first started wondering why Tony wasn’t in his head that morning. And when he thought about it, he hadn’t felt Tony checking in all weekend. Not that Tony always did that which was why Gibbs hadn’t worried about him during that time. He’d just figured that maybe Tony had probably been drunk off his ass all weekend in order to recover from his father’s unannounced visit. Or maybe Tony had been in some kind of orgy all weekend. Sex or booze, they were Tony’s drugs of choice. So of course the man wouldn’t check in with Gibbs, even in that quiet mind-to-mind way that they had if Tony needed to escape from his life for the weekend. But it was now time for Gibbs to stop sitting on his hands and figure out what the hell was going on with DiNozzo, and why he was incommunicado and late. And missing from Gibbs’ headspace.

“McGee,” he barked.

“Yes, Boss?” came the obedient answer.

“Stop fucking around with Ziva and find DiNozzo,” he grunted. “Track his phone.”

Ziva made a crowing noise, thinking gleefully how much trouble Tony was in now that Gibbs was more than aware of his unexcused absence, but Gibbs quelled her with a glare.

“He’s n-not that late, Boss,” McGee tried to stand up for his Senior Field Agent.

“ _Now_ , McGee,” Gibbs said curtly. While he appreciated the belated and half-hearted way that McGee was finally sticking up for DiNozzo, he needed action and not words at that time.

The junior agent’s fingers flew over his keyboard, rushing to do Gibbs’ bidding. “Uh, Boss, his phone doesn’t seem to be on,” McGee finally frowned in concern at Gibbs.

“It’s _off?_ ” Gibbs exclaimed, worry blooming in his gut.

“Tony would never turn his phone off, Boss,” McGee said in a small voice, starting to feel guilty about being excited about seeing Tony get told off by Gibbs for being late. His fingers kept going. “Last time his cell phone pinged a cell tower it was here, Boss,” the agent pulled a map of DC up on the plasma, a red dot marking the spot.

“When was that?” Gibbs asked.

“Early Saturday morning,” McGee answered. “Around 0330? And then nothing”

“Like it ran out of power?”

McGee nodded. “Yeah. Maybe. I mean, he could have turned it off, I guess. But I can’t imagine why Tony would do that. He always obeys your rules, Boss.”

“That’s his apartment key,” Gibbs told him. He pulled a key off his key ring and tossed it to McGee. “Go check it out. You back him up, David.”

“Are you expecting trouble, Gibbs?” Ziva asked as she grabbed her weapon and badge. “Perhaps Tony just lost track of time. Perhaps he spent the weekend with his charming father, as they have just renewed their relationship.”

“DiNozzo’s never late without letting me know where he is,” Gibbs said darkly. DiNozzo Senior. Gibbs growled at the thought of the odious man. “He hasn’t called me or talked to me since Friday night. And now he’s not answering his phone. There’s no way he’s with his father, not voluntarily. Didn’t you meet the man in person last week? You tell me if we should expect trouble.”

“Um, Boss, he doesn’t _always_ call you if he’s late does he?” McGee started to chuckle awkwardly. Surely Tony wasn’t playing around at being in trouble coming in late all these years?

“ _Always_ , McGee. He always calls and I _always_ know where he is,” Gibbs’ eyes brooked no argument. “Vance is expecting me in MTAC or I’d go look for him myself.”

“I don’t know where he lives. Should I hack into the NCIS personnel database to get his address?” McGee suddenly realized that he’d never gone to Tony’s place. He’d never been invited. Never wanted to be invited. Hell, he’d never even pretended to be interested in where Tony lived. And now he was wondering how the hell Tony had been able to never even manage to tell him where he lived, when the Senior Field Agent had not hesitated to show up at his apartment to offer comfort to him both during and after difficult cases. Why had he never thought to offer the same level of support to the older man? Why did he think Tony wouldn’t be affected by some of the things that they had to see and do during the course of their work? Did he really think that Tony was emotionless and without feelings?

“His address isn’t in there. It’s unlisted,” Gibbs muttered, interrupting his thoughts. The team lead pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote something out on a piece of paper. “His address. Don’t make him have to move again,” he glared at both his underlings. “If I find out you’ve abused this knowledge, you’re both off my team.”

“What?” McGee stuttered. “How can his address be unlisted? We’re NCIS!”

“It just is,” Gibbs declared. “Go. Ziva, you drive. Call me right away when you get there.”

“Yes, Boss,” McGee gave Ziva a significant look before they ran off towards the elevator.

Gibbs’ phone buzzed and he looked at it in concern, hoping it was DiNozzo. It wasn’t. It was a reminder from Vance’s assistant that he was late to his meeting in MTAC. He ran up the stairs, forcing his mind away from wondering if DiNozzo _was_ dead in a ditch somewhere. He could have been mugged while he went running – sometimes the man ran in the middle of the night, when he couldn’t sleep. Or he could have been a victim of a hit and run and was lying in a morgue as a John Doe somewhere. Why the fuck had he even allowed Tony to leave his place on Friday night after their shared steak dinner, when he’d confronted Tony about paying for his father’s hotel room and airline tickets to Monte Carlo or Acapulco or wherever the fuck Senior needed to go for his next con? He should have insisted that Tony stay at his house until whatever weirdness had been worked out of the man’s system. He should have taken better care of Tony.

Fuck it. Where the hell was DiNozzo?

[](http://imgur.com/szXWf34) [](http://imgur.com/szXWf34) [](http://imgur.com/szXWf34)


	3. Chapter 3

[](http://imgur.com/8GKLpUq)

In the car, Ziva drove like a maniac while McGee gave her directions to Tony’s apartment. As it turned out, Tony lived in a pretty good area of town, central to everything and not far from the Navy Yard. But the fact that Gibbs had ordered Ziva to drive meant that the man was truly worried about Tony. McGee wasn’t going to go against Gibbs’ gut at this point in time. Not to mention that even from the beginning, he’d realized that there was something _more_ about Gibbs’ regard for his Senior Field Agent. Tony was of course, completely obsessed with Gibbs and the need to keep Gibbs happy. Everyone knew that. But when Tony had gone missing in the sewers in that weird serial killer case, Gibbs had been quietly frantic in his need to find his missing agent. At the time, McGee had been oddly comforted by it. If McGee was ever kidnapped, he was sure Gibbs would work just as hard to find him and get him back. But over time he came to realize that even though Gibbs would have worked just as hard to find him, should he McGee ever be kidnapped by serial killers – and why it was that Tony was always the one to be abducted by or to voluntarily shackle himself to serial killers, he didn’t even know – but if McGee was ever the lucky bastard to win the kidnapped by a psychopath lottery, while Gibbs would work just as hard to rescue him, he wouldn’t be as emotionally invested in the outcome, the way he was when Tony was in danger. Gibbs was emotionally invested in Tony in ways that he was sure neither man was even aware of. McGee was not looking forward to finding out what kind of a bastard Gibbs could be if something had actually happened to Tony.

“Do not worry, McGee. Tony is probably drunk in some woman’s bed somewhere,” Ziva was saying.

McGee frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think so, Ziva. Gibbs was really worried. And it’s not like Tony’s not been even later in to work.”

Ziva snorted. “Tony is late every other Monday, McGee. This is no exception.”

“Yeah, but Gibbs said Tony always calls him,” McGee insisted, his belly roiling with unease. The worry coupled with Ziva’s driving was making him feel nauseous.

“Do you think that that is true?” Ziva asked speculatively.

McGee nodded. “Gibbs said it.”

Ziva nodded, skidding around other cars as if she were playing a video game and they had multiple lives to waste. “Fair enough. Perhaps it is something else. Kidnapped by an old enemy?”

“Nobody just got out of prison that we should worry about,” McGee muttered, tapping into his laptop. “I have flags on everybody for the team and nothing’s come up in the past couple of months.”

“Hmm. Do you go back as far as Tony’s police department days?”

“Shit, I should,” McGee grunted. “I’ll have to upgrade my flags when we have a chance.”

“Or perhaps it is something good? We are being very, very negative, McGee.”

“Good like how?” McGee made a face.

“Good like perhaps Tony has come online? He is a latent, yes?” that was what their Mossad research had turned up. The SGC database was the most secure one in the world, given that it crossed international boundaries and housed sensitive information on some of the most powerful people in the world. All anyone could find out about DiNozzo via the SGC was that he was registered with them, identified as a Guide, but he was not online. “Perhaps Tony is in his apartment incapacitated, unable to shield all the emotions that have bombarded him when he came online?”

“Not possible,” McGee suddenly wanted to change the subject.

“What do you mean, McGee?” Ziva asked sharply.

McGee sighed. He’d found out about Tony’s deep, dark secret when he and Kate had teased Tony about going missing in the sewers. How surprised they had been that the trauma of waking up in the sewers next to a rotting corpse and a half-dead man, being attacked by bees, and just the whole smell of the sewers and then the whole scary serial killer chick hunting them thing should have been enough to kick anyone online. And he’d seen Tony’s face fall and darken at that. And then a quiet admission.

“Nobody goes online twice,” he’d said before he grabbed his things and left for an impromptu coffee run.

And the look in Tony’s eyes. Tony had been online once. And he wasn’t anymore. Which meant that he’d gone dormant. Tony had gone through something truly horrific from the looks of it, and just that look in his eyes had been enough. Tony’s eyes were a brilliant green and always full of emotions – real or faked. He could be describing the most recent movie he’d seen and his eyes would be dancing and twinkling with animation. He could be describing his latest conquest, and his eyes would be smoldering with remembered lust. He could be interrogating a perp, and those same green eyes would be angry and murderous, or slow and lazy, or cunning and sly, depending on what he wanted to convey, what role he might be playing in order to get the perp to talk. But they were always animated and always full of life. But that day, when he’d said those words so quietly that Kate had almost missed it, _Nobody goes online twice_ , Tony’s green eyes had been completely bleak and empty.

And now that he thought about it, Tony’s eyes had been filled with anxiety and desperation last week when Senior had been in town, invading his workplace and affecting their case. And McGee had ignored it. What the hell kind of person was he that he hadn’t been able to get over the obviously genuine distress Tony had been in when his father had just showed up? Surely he himself, given his own dicey relationship with the Admiral, surely he could relate to having a difficult relationship with a father? Why had he just ignored Tony’s obvious flailings of the previous week? Why hadn’t he offered at least a sympathetic camaraderie towards the man? Tony was a dormant Guide. Society was centered around catering to a Guide’s every whim. And a beautiful young Guide who had gone dormant – even McGee could see Tony’s physical beauty, hell he was slapped in the face with it every single fucking day – _everyone_ would have jumped all over themselves to protect Tony. Something bad had happened and he’d gone dormant before the age of thirty. The SGC should have been falling all over themselves to study him and care for him, to ensure that this kind of tragedy never happened again. But of course, Tony would have completely refused all of that _help_ and just turned back to work and denied that there was any problems with himself. McGee had worked with Tony long enough to know that about the man.

Shit. Why had he been such an asshole to Tony the previous week? McGee lamented to himself.

“What do you mean, McGee?” Ziva asked again, this time more insistently.

McGee shrugged. “Tony’s dormant,” he said softly, revealing Tony’s secret.

The look Ziva gave him spoke a thousand words. Ziva was a latent, like himself. Neither of them knew what it felt like to be online. But the idea of losing it all after coming online was the worst thing either of them could imagine.

“He is dormant?” Ziva asked softly.

McGee nodded.

“You are sure?”

McGee nodded again.

“You know this how?”

“He told me once. Me and Kate.”

Ziva muttered softly in Hebrew. McGee recognized the words to be a prayer. And McGee said nothing when Ziva sped up even more, barreling dangerously through the streets of DC hopefully to get to their teammate before it was too late.

When they got to Tony’s building, they went up to his floor and banged loudly on his door before McGee used the key Gibbs had entrusted to him. They flung the door open, guns out, and readied themselves to step in, nodding to each other. They would clear the apartment together. But as soon as they stepped in and looked into Tony’s huge, immaculately clean and incredibly organized living room, they froze in their tracks. A white tiger, fully grown, easily ten or twelve feet from nose to tail barred their progress and growled ferociously at them. And behind the angry feline was Tony, profile to them, standing unnaturally still, eyes not even blinking.

McGee pushed Ziva’s gun down and lowered his own as the white tiger – eyes bluer than the sky on a clear day – continued to growl at them. It wasn’t a real tiger. It was a spirit animal. And it was very upset.

“I thought you said Tony could not come online because he is dormant?” Ziva demanded.

The tiger’s yowl silenced her.

“ _He_ said he couldn’t come online again,” McGee muttered, carefully pulling his cell phone out, keeping his movements slow and smooth, and dialing Gibbs. “I am not sure what’s happening here.”

“Tony!” Ziva called out, and the tiger’s growl made her shrink back. Tony stood where he was, completely immobile. “Tony!!” Ziva tried again. “Damn it! _Tony!!_ ”

“Don’t make it mad, Ziva,” McGee sing-songed as he waited for Gibbs to pick up. “Boss. We got a problem.”

The tiger took a step towards them and McGee pulled Ziva back as it growled threateningly at them. The primal instinct to run when the animal growled at him was almost impossible to resist. Humans weren’t made to stand their ground when an animal with the capacity to tear out their throats with no effort growled at them and threatened to do just that.

“What the fuck is going on?” Gibbs growled at him through the phone.

Great, McGee thought. Now he was being growled at by a white tiger _and_ by his boss. He couldn’t for the life of him decide which was more frightening. “Uh, Boss? Tony has some kind of spirit animal tiger in the apartment. Can’t be his, right? Given his status? But we can’t get past it and Tony’s just standing there, Boss. He’s not responding to us or to anything. At all.”

“Is DiNozzo breathing?”

“I sure hope so.”

“Does he look hurt?”

“Nope. I can’t see any injuries. He’s just standing there.”

“He’s upright?”

“Uh-huh. He looks like he’s frozen in his tracks somehow. His eyes are open. It is absolutely freaky, Boss.”

“Anyone else in the apartment? Someone the tiger might belong to?”

“We can’t be sure,” McGee admitted.

“Go make sure!”

“Right.”

McGee started forward carefully and the white tiger faced them squarely and just fucking roared, the sound like thunder. “Uh Boss?” McGee grabbed Ziva’s sleeve and they slowly moved back towards the door. “The five hundred pound tiger is going to kill us…”

“You said it’s a spirit animal.”

“It sure looks rock solid from where I’m standing, Boss.”

Gibbs snorted. “I’m on my way. Stay with Tony. Call the SGC and get help. Now.”

[](http://imgur.com/szXWf34) [](http://imgur.com/jgYFPhI) [](http://imgur.com/szXWf34)


	4. Chapter 4

[](http://imgur.com/8GKLpUq)

Gibbs came running up barely ten minutes later. How he got there so fast, McGee didn’t even want to know. He only hoped that no innocent bystanders had been killed by Gibbs’ reckless driving. But at that time, he and Ziva had retreated to Tony’s front doorway and the white tiger had positioned itself about halfway into the foyer. Tony remained where he was, still seemingly completely oblivious to what was going on around him. Still eerily standing there and not blinking.

The tiger roared at Gibbs and instantly Anubis, Gibbs’ spirit animal, a golden jackal too large to be natural at over four feet long appeared and howled, a high pitched banshee-sounding howl that made both McGee and Ziva cover their ears and shiver. Anubis was completely dwarfed by the white tiger but he stood his ground, standing in front of Gibbs, continuing to howl until the tiger glared at it, blue eyes ready to kill. McGee had only seen Anubis perhaps a handful of times in the six years that he’d worked with Gibbs, but he usually only appeared very briefly. Not this time. This time Anubis was facing down the white tiger. And spirit animals could hurt or possibly kill one another and make their Sentinel or Guide go dormant if that happened.

“Hey now,” Gibbs said softly, one hand on Anubis’s back, and the golden jackal quieted. “Hey. We need to help Tony,” Gibbs continued to speak in that gentle, quiet tone, addressing the tiger directly. “He needs help. Right?”

The tiger yowled in response.

“Are you his?” Gibbs asked. “Or is someone else here?”

The tiger’s snort spoke volumes. There was no one else there. The tiger was Tony’s.

“He’s supposed to be dormant,” Gibbs said, and Anubis whined at that statement.

The white tiger practically rolled its blue eyes.

“He’s _not_ dormant?” Gibbs asked, unable to hide his shock, and hearing McGee and Ziva gasp behind him. “Does he even _know_ that?”

The tiger growled grumpily and shook its head.

“Oh, Tony,” Gibbs sighed.

The tiger growled again.

“OK,” Gibbs nodded. “Do you mind if I go to him and check him out?”

The tiger roared and took a swipe at Anubis, who whined sympathetically at the tiger. _Durga_ , the name floated into Gibbs’ mind. Sometimes Anubis could project thoughts into his head, if it was important enough, without Gibbs having to be in the spirit plane. _Her name is Durga._

“Durga, please. We want to help Tony. You want that, too, right?” Gibbs asked the animal, looking it squarely in its blue eyes which were shining with preternatural intelligence.

Durga growled deep in her chest and backed up, allowing Gibbs to slowly approach Tony. It looked as if his Senior Field Agent was still wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing when they had dinner on Friday night. Had the man been standing there, out of it for almost seventy two hours?

“Easy, Durga,” Gibbs told the tiger reassuringly, as he slowly reached out a hand and felt for a pulse on Tony’s neck, fully expecting him to jump and blink at his touch. But the man stood, still as a statue, barely even breathing. His heartrate was abnormally slow, and his skin disturbingly cool to the touch. Tony’s green eyes looked completely dried out – the man had stood, eyes half open for all this while. His full, shapely lips were horribly chapped. Gently, Gibbs did the only thing he could do to help Tony right now, he spoke softly and told him what he was doing, in case Tony could hear him, and pushed his eyelids down, hopefully preventing Tony’s eyes from sustaining irreparable damage. The act was too much like closing the eyes on a dead body, and Gibbs couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of ever doing that to DiNozzo. Not his DiNozzo. Not ever.

“David, go downstairs and wait for SGC. Bring them up right away,” Gibbs barked at Ziva.

She nodded and whirled, running downstairs in a flash. Anubis was carefully sniffing at DiNozzo and barking softly.

“Yeah. Dehydration, fatigue,” Gibbs agreed with the jackal. “Have you been here very long?” Gibbs asked Durga.

Anubis whined an answer. Durga had been there for only one day.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Gibbs asked.

Anubis’s whine was pitiful. Durga didn’t know what was going on. It had never happened before. And both she and Anubis were distressed.

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs took Tony’s hand and gently squeezed it. “Can you hear me, Tony? Tony? It’s Gibbs. It’s Gibbs, Anthony,” Gibbs rubbed his thumb on the back of Tony’s hand. “Anthony?”

McGee wasn’t sure whether he was more surprised at how physical Gibbs was being with Tony or how gentle, both in words and in action. But of course, the man wasn’t just going to head slap someone who’d been catatonic for who knows how long. That would be inhumane and cruel. But the tone Gibbs was using made McGee feel as if he needed to give them privacy. Gibbs spoke to him as if they were intimate. As if they were lovers.

But it wasn’t working. Even though Tony’s eyes were now closed and McGee stopped feeling creeped out by the feeling that Tony was watching him, Tony remained standing, arms limp at his side, still completely catatonic. And if McGee had to describe the expression on Tony’s face, it was sorrow. A heavy, depressing sadness. The corners of his mouth were turned down, and there was a slight furrow between his eyes. Not something Tony ever showed to the world, but there was a weariness to Tony that made McGee want to lie down and cry for him.

Or maybe that was how Anubis and Durga were making him feel. The tiger’s huge white head was bowed in defeat and Anubis kept whining pitifully.

Gibbs placed a hand on Tony’s cheek, thumb caressing it gently. “Anthony?” he called softly, using his voice and his mind, trying to reach Tony psychically as well as physically. “Come on back now. You’re making everyone worry. Come on back. Nobody’s mad at you. Come on, sweetheart. You’re not in trouble. But you need to come on back, Tony. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

No response.

“Tony,” Gibbs breathed, appalled at the coolness of Tony’s skin and the incredible stillness of the man. Tony was never still. Tony was the most animated, zest-of-life filled person Gibbs had ever known, surpassing even Abby on his frenetic and frenzied days. This statue, this was _not_ Tony. Not his Tony. “Sweetheart? Where’d you go? Can you find your way back? It’s me. It’s Gibbs. Come back to me, Tony.”

Still nothing.

Gibbs bit back a curse. He kept trying, calling Tony by his first name, his last name, his full name, and a bunch of different endearments. To no avail. He rubbed Tony’s back and ran his fingers through the man’s soft hair, touching him, hoping to somehow bring him back with his touch. He reached out with his empathic senses, trying to locate that spark of life that was Tony and all he could feel was Durga starting to panic. There didn’t seem to be any sign of Tony anywhere, not anywhere that Gibbs could sense. He reached out harder, rubbing Tony’s chapped bottom lip with his thumb, calling for him softly but intently with his mind as well as his voice.

Nothing.

The Sentinel Guide Council emergency team arrived while Gibbs kept trying to call Tony back. Durga jumped back out and roared at the team. And this time Anubis stood next to her and growled ferociously at the encroachers. Neither of them wanted the SGC team or anyone else near Tony.

“Wait, they’re here to help,” Gibbs tried to reason with the animals. They ignored him and continued to threaten the SGC team, what looked to be a doctor and two EMTs in standard SGC uniforms, carrying medical equipment with them.

“Anubis?” Gibbs called to his golden jackal. “What’s going on?”

He received flashes of images. Anubis was projecting what Durga had shared with him. He saw a medical treatment room with SGC medical personnel dressed in similar uniforms as this team, but an older version of the uniform. Durga was sharing a memory. A very old memory. Gibbs couldn’t even recall the uniform they were wearing – it had to be from before he came online and started paying attention to the SGC. He was in the memory, watching from what must be Tony’s eyes. Everything was too bright and hurt his eyes, the sounds were deafening and hurt his ears. The sound of Durga roaring, of the chatter from the medical personnel, and everything around him just _hurt_. He felt a paralyzing fear, watched the SGC personnel approach him with syringes. There were loud voices but he couldn’t make out the words. He knew he was screaming at them to stop. He could hear himself – hear Tony the child – screaming and screaming in fear and in pain, but the syringes kept getting closer. He struggled and struggled – had Tony been restrained? Why would SGC have restrained him? And then firm hands gripped him causing him to shriek with even more pain at the searing touch, and then there was a sharp pain, and then abruptly, darkness.

He frowned at Durga.

“When did that happen?” he asked her.

Anubis growled. Durga had no concept of years or human measurements of time, but she had waited a long time on the spirit plane for Tony to acknowledge her again. And nothing. It was the last memory that Durga had. Gibbs tried to soothe her.

“These aren’t the same people,” he tried to reason. He reached out with his senses to try to calm the white tiger. “I know someone hurt Tony a long time ago. But these aren’t those people. I promise you. They’re here to help.”

“Who are you?” the doctor demanded imperiously before she jumped back as Durga attempted to claw at her.

“I’m Special Supervisory Guide-Agent Jethro Gibbs,” Gibbs drew himself to his full height. “I am Special Agent DiNozzo’s boss.”

The doctor relented and nodded. She was a Sentinel, Gibbs could tell, and of course, Sentinels would automatically want to keep the upset Guide calm. Which always had the opposite effect on Gibbs. Gibbs hated it when Sentinels condescended to him. Poor little helpless Guides, in need of help, protection and nurturing. It made him want to pull his gun out and shoot them in the kneecaps and see who needed help and protection then.

“We are Federal Agents,” Gibbs barked at her. “Be quiet while I try to clear the way for you to help Guide DiNozzo.”

Durga roared, a humongous sound that bounced off the walls and reverberated menacingly in Tony’s apartment. The SGC emergency team retreated back to where McGee and Ziva stood, by the front door. And then they were at an impasse. Neither Anubis nor Durga was willing to trust that these people wouldn’t hurt Tony the way he’d been hurt before. And neither of them wanted to allow anyone but Gibbs near Tony. And despite the incredible roaring and the whining and the barking and the howling and the yowling of both tiger and jackal, Tony remained completely unresponsive.

A second SGC emergency team arrived, which made the animals even angrier, and the impasse even more tense. Gibbs was unable to talk either animal into backing off.

Finally, a tall man and his partner arrived. Gibbs stared at them, recognizing them immediately. North American Alpha Sentinel Jim Ellison and his bonded partner, North American Alpha Guide Blair Sandburg. Right there in Tony’s apartment. He stared at them in confusion, trying to understand why the two most powerful Sentinel and Guide pair in North America had just casually strolled into Tony’s apartment.

Sandburg, the shorter of the two men, brought with him a peaceful aura. The two SGC emergency teams calmed down, as did McGee and Ziva. Even the bloodcurdling animal noises lessened somewhat. Sandburg had to be affecting everyone. Gibbs felt the soft touch as Sandburg tried to calm him down as well.

“I’m calm,” he told the Guide. “You don’t need to do that to me.”

Sandburg smiled at him and nodded, raising an eyebrow. Gibbs put a hand on Anubis’s rump. “Hush,” he told the jackal softly. “Don’t you recognize these men?”

Anubis quieted down but stared at the newcomers, refusing to give ground. Durga continued to roar angrily.

“No one will harm Guide DiNozzo,” Sandburg told the white tiger. “We only wish to help him.”

Durga viciously roared at him again, and Ellison twitched, wanting to put himself in between Sandburg and the angry tiger, but knowing that Blair needed to work his magic to resolve this situation.

Sandburg opened his mind and allowed Durga to feel who he was in its entirety and his intentions towards Tony. Durga shook her head and snorted, blinking those bright blue eyes of hers for long moments before she finally stood down, cautiously backing all the way back up until she was brushing lightly against Tony. Sandburg carefully walked up to Gibbs.

“You must be Gibbs,” Sandburg said simply.

Gibbs nodded.

“Jim and I have been following your career path as well as NCIS’s MCRT with great interest.”

“Well, right now, we’re not gonna chit chat about what Guides can and cannot do,” Gibbs murmured grumpily. “We need to help DiNozzo.”

Sandburg nodded. He turned to Durga. “We need to take Guide DiNozzo to SGC Headquarters where we are equipped to figure out what happened to him.”

Durga yowled angrily.

“I promise you, on my life, that we will not harm him.”

Durga roared again in disbelief. Gibbs shared a few of the images from Tony’s past with Sandburg, choosing as much as possible to shield Tony’s memories from scrutiny, choosing to show only why Durga was so upset at the uniforms they wore.

“I understand that you and he have been hurt in the past. I will personally stay to ensure DiNozzo’s safety. And Gibbs will be the first to kill me should I fail in my responsibility towards Guide DiNozzo,” Sandburg told the tiger.

Durga growled deep in her throat, glared at Ellison, a full challenge, but she then allowed the medical personnel to come through. Anubis vanished in a flash, but Durga remained. She kept in physical touch with her Guide at all times, and both Gibbs and Sandburg accompanied them to SGC’s DC Headquarters. Gibbs gave McGee and Ziva orders to secure Tony’s apartment and report back to work.

[](http://imgur.com/u4W4mDa)


	5. Chapter 5

[](http://imgur.com/8GKLpUq)

Two days later, DiNozzo was still in a catatonic state, being kept alive via IV fluids in the state of the art SGC Center in Central DC. And no one, not Sentinel, not Guide, and not mundane medical personnel, had any idea how to get him out of that state. Sandburg had been true to his word. Despite his Sentinel’s protests, he’d cleared his schedule, remained in DC and personally overseen all the medical treatments. It was a lucky coincidence that had him and Ellison in town for a meeting, and he’d extended their stay.

He worked with Gibbs to try to find Tony in the spiritual plane. He’d even called upon the Shaman of South America to help, but despite all their efforts, so far they could find no sign of him, not even in the spiritual plane. Tony had seemingly completely checked out from both planes.

And Durga was fading. She remained with Tony, snuggled up with him on the hospital bed, but even a complete mundane could see that she was literally fading. She was starting to look a little mangy, her fur thinning and patchy in spots, and she seemed overall more see through. She still growled when unfamiliar people approached Tony, but she wasn’t swiping at anyone anymore. She was gradually losing strength.

Gibbs and Blair Sandburg hadn’t slept much since DiNozzo had been brought in. Nothing in the Sentinel/Guide lore books was helping. Nothing the Guides were doing to bring the downed Guide back seemed to even be affecting him. The only thing that seemed to help were the times when Gibbs sat with him, especially when Gibbs touched him – skin on skin – and spoke to him. There was an observable increase in his otherwise unhealthily slow respiration and pulse rate, and his dangerously low blood pressure rose as well. Once they realized this, Gibbs had basically only left DiNozzo’s side for restroom breaks. He did everything else while in direct physical contact with DiNozzo.

Gibbs was fast losing faith in the SGC. He’d come online a little later in life, after he had had a full life. He had been a career marine, a husband and a father, and had been fully grounded in the mundane human world, never imagining that he would come online. While he _was_ now an online Guide, and he and Anubis walked the spiritual plane together every so often to reconnect with the mystical side of things, and he embraced Guidehood without reservations, essentially he was still a man who trusted in what he could see, touch and feel. And at this point, the mystical had accomplished jack shit to bring Tony back. Sentinel/Guide lore wasn’t helping them and Gibbs needed to do _something_. He couldn’t just sit with his thumbs up his ass while people struggled to figure out the issue with DiNozzo. Whatever else he was, Gibbs was a damned good investigator. He needed to investigate what was going on with Tony in a concrete way. He had to trust in his own process, and in his own team, the crack investigative team that DiNozzo himself had handpicked. So that was what he was going to do. He couldn’t wait around for the Guides’ mystical magical tour to finish while DiNozzo quietly slipped away from them.

With Ellison’s support, he convened his team, including Ducky, Palmer and Abby right in Tony’s room, and they, along with Sandburg, Ellison and Tony’s primary doctors one a Sentinel and one a Guide also in attendance, met to try to figure things out together. It was time to go back to the basics. It was time for Gibbs’ team to come together, this time in support of Tony’s life. It was getting urgent. If Durga faded away completely from the earthly plane, Sandburg wasn’t sure that Durga would just go back to the spiritual plane where she had been trapped for all these years. She might disappear for good. And if this happened, Sandburg couldn’t be sure that Tony’s soul wouldn’t just go with her and disappear wherever it was that spiritual animals went when their Sentinels or Guides died, leaving behind only his lifeless body. Whatever had happened to DiNozzo had been so severe that he’d just stayed in his tracks for nearly seventy-two hours and he was still almost completely unresponsive to stimuli. For a Guide, the emotional trauma to make this happen must have been immense – more than anything Sandburg could imagine. They couldn’t avoid the truth anymore. Tony DiNozzo was dying. A slow, quiet, soul-degenerative death. But he was dying, nonetheless.

When the team filed in to DiNozzo’s room, Gibbs was sitting on the bed and Abby, McGee and Ziva’s eyes widened when they saw that a shirtless catatonic DiNozzo was cradled in an equally shirtless Gibbs’ arms, head pillowed on Gibbs’ bare chest and Gibbs’ arms holding him close, one hand unconsciously rubbing up and down Tony’s back on his bare skin. Tony was wearing SGC approved hospital issue scrub pants, as was Gibbs. But the team couldn’t hide their surprise to see both men shirtless and Gibbs seemingly affectionate and physical with the catatonic Guide. Vance had heard of the session and had invited himself to it and he frowned at Gibbs in confusion.

“Is this really the time, Gibbs?” Vance gestured to the scene. “This is why you’ve sequestered yourself here?”

Gibbs scowled at Vance, even as he ran his fingers through Tony’s hair and rubbed the back of the unconscious man’s neck. Tony was connected to various machines, monitoring his condition as well as sustaining him, and the quiet beeping of the machinery went on in the background.

[](http://imgur.com/8lbG8eZ) [](http://imgur.com/8lbG8eZ) [](http://imgur.com/8lbG8eZ)

“We have observed a slight increase in Guide DiNozzo’s heart rate and blood pressure when Guide Gibbs touches his skin,” Sandburg explained to everyone, before Gibbs could murder Vance with his death glare. “It is the only stimulus that Guide DiNozzo has responded to thus far, and believe me we’ve tried everything to try and wake him up. Guide Gibbs has been kind enough to accommodate Guide DiNozzo’s needs, as he needs Gibbs’ constant presence. We’ve found that in this position, both Guides can rest comfortably. We’re still hoping that we can somehow reach Guide DiNozzo wherever it is that he might be.”

Gibbs swallowed a growl. As if they would give up on DiNozzo. As if giving up was even an option.

Vance nodded. He was a Sentinel of mid-range strength. While he had taken an instant dislike to DiNozzo and, especially in the beginning, he’d had absolutely no idea what the pretty boy was doing on Gibbs’ team, he’d since come to realize that there would not even be a team without DiNozzo. In the past year, he’d found himself on committees with former NCIS Director Tom Morrow, and inevitably they would chat about the NCIS’s incredible Guide-only MCRT which pre-dated Vance’s directorship of the agency and started during Morrow’s tenure. To Vance’s surprise, Morrow had revealed to him that Gibbs had only ever recruited DiNozzo himself, and that DiNozzo had been the one to manipulate Gibbs into fleshing out the team properly. Vance had expressed his surprise at that, given what he’d thought he’d known about DiNozzo and his need for recognition and praise, and Morrow had just smiled at him in that way that meant that he knew something Vance didn’t. When Vance asked him what he was missing, all Morrow had said was that if Vance wasn’t happy with DiNozzo, Homeland would happily take the man off Vance’s hands. Which then prompted Vance to research the MCRT’s Senior Field Agent.

He read through DiNozzo’s official file, and then discovered the secondary files that both Morrow and Shepard had maintained on the man. Morrow, it turned out, had had the kind of respect for the man such that he had been grooming him to be the agency’s first Guide Director. Shepard had been using the man’s many hidden talents for her own personal agenda. And that despite all the foolish and childish things that DiNozzo openly got away with, the man had hidden two of his three Masters degrees, having on record only his Masters in Criminal Justice and hiding the ones in Psychology and Music Theory. He’d also left off record his PhD in Criminology. That DiNozzo was qualified and accomplished on paper had been a huge surprise to Vance. It made him wonder why DiNozzo hadn’t just upped and resigned when he’d been sent as Agent Afloat against his and Gibbs’ wishes. But seeing how Gibbs was protectively holding DiNozzo now, not that either man had ever shown any signs of impropriety at any time, it stood to reason that they were emotionally connected to each other in ways that Vance didn’t understand. But in a very strange way, everything started to make sense.

“Perhaps if we found his Sentinel?” Vance suggested, ignoring Gibbs’ glare at the implied suggestion that he, a mere Guide, was not enough.

“Guide DiNozzo’s case is unique. Finding him his Sentinel is a shot in the dark. We have nothing to go on to find his Sentinel. But Guide Gibbs has a plan. Let’s all get comfortable and let Gibbs begin, shall we?” Sandburg suggested gently, again averting Vance’s death by Gibbs’ death glare.

They had dragged in enough chairs for everyone and they settled themselves in close quarters since Tony’s little room wasn’t particularly large. They sat, looking at each other and wondering how on earth they would be able to help. So far Gibbs and the SGC had been tight lipped about Tony’s condition other than ‘unchanged’, but now they had all been invited to work Tony’s case. Both McGee and Abby had been asked to bring their laptops.

“We asked you here today because nothing has worked,” Gibbs said bluntly. “Alpha Guide Sandburg and Alpha Sentinel Ellison have tried everything, including involving the Alphas and Shamans of several continents. Nothing in Sentinel/Guide lore seems to have accomplished anything.”

“What are the chances that DiNozzo will wake on his own?” Vance asked.

“None,” one of the doctors said grimly. “There is absolutely no chance that Guide DiNozzo will return from this on his own.”

Abby gasped, eyes tearing up. “How long can he last like this?” she asked.

“Not much longer, I’m afraid,” Sandburg said softly.

“What can _we_ do that the SGC cannot?” Ziva asked helplessly.

“What do you need us to do, Jethro?” Ducky asked, his expression determined. The elderly ME was a Guide and his talents lay in his ability to sometimes experience what their deceased victims felt close to their deaths. That, coupled with his keen intellect and skills as a medical examiner made what he did partly science and partly the unquantifiable Sentinel/Guide magic. However, his real talent lay in the way he was able to parse out the science and be able to explain things scientifically such that any and all mundane laws and court rules and military tribunals could be fulfilled. His young assistant, Palmer, was a mundane but he was more than competent, having been trained by Ducky himself all these years.

“I need for us to investigate this the way we normally investigate things,” Gibbs said. “Shaman Sandburg will continue to work with the other Alpha Guides, but in the meantime, we need to try and figure out what we can as well.”

Abby nodded. “We can do that, Gibbs.”

“We work the case,” Gibbs said, his tone clipped. “The way we always do. Right now, I’d like for us to pool together what we know so we can understand what led up to this episode. Start from what we found at the crime scene, and go from there. At the time that DiNozzo was found, he was still wearing the same clothes that he’d been wearing when he and I ate dinner together on Friday night. Which meant that Tony made it home after eating with me that night, and then he went into this state. As of now, we believe it has been five days since…” Gibbs couldn’t finish the sentence. They didn’t even know what happened. But whatever it was, it had happened five days ago. He looked down at Tony’s face, tucked against his chest, and he pushed the soft brown hair off of his forehead. His hair was so unbelievably soft. He’d always known that, from the years of headslaps, but this was the first time he’d been allowed unfettered access to it, without any of Tony’s snide comments, mischievous flirtations, or cringes, depending on Gibbs’ mood. But now Tony’s hair was getting long. Gibbs liked it when Tony’s hair was shorter.

Fuck. It was no time to be critical of the length of Tony’s hair. At least Tony was clean shaven, but that was only because every day Gibbs did it himself. Every morning, Gibbs carefully shaved Tony, speaking to him and ensuring that some parts of their bodies were touching the entire time.

“Start by telling me what time Tony got home on Friday night. He left my house maybe around 2200? He’d had two beers with dinner, we talked, and he went home,” Gibbs continued.

McGee’s fingers were flying over his laptop. “Tony got home at 2238 that night, according to the timestamp on the security footage from his building. He’s carrying a six-pack of his favorite microbrew.”

Ellison leaned in to look at McGee’s screen. “He has good taste,” he said approvingly.

Gibbs grinned at that and barely stopped himself from dropping a kiss into Tony’s hair right in front of everyone.

“So it took him approximately thirty eight minutes to drive home from your house, including a stop at a liquor store,” Ziva summarized. “That seems like a long drive. I would have made it in half the time. Perhaps he stopped off somewhere else as well?”

“That’s how long it would take a normal person to drive that,” McGee countered. “Only you and Gibbs would have made it in anything under thirty minutes.”

Ziva glared at him and he frowned at her, standing his ground. “Fine. Then we can conclude that Tony made one stop at the liquor store to purchase the beer on his way home from Gibbs’ house.”

“OK. Where was the beer?” Gibbs asked.

“On the coffee table,” Ziva pointed out the appropriate photo that McGee displayed on his laptop. Once Tony had been taken away, she and McGee had photographed and fingerprinted Tony’s apartment as if it was a crime scene. Interestingly, the only prints they had found in Tony’s obsessively clean apartment had been his, and in the living room they had found their own prints, Gibbs’ and the SGC teams’. There had not been any other unaccounted for prints, and certainly none in his bedroom. It had been a surprise. As had the neatly made tiny twin bed in the bedroom that looked as if it had been made by a marine – McGee had even tested and found that he could in fact bounce a quarter off of Tony’s bed. In fact, the entire apartment had been neat with nothing out of place, which was a surprise given the slovenly way Tony tended to leave his desk. But when McGee thought about it, Tony’s desk only _appeared_ messy but his files were always neat and organized and the messiness only came about when there were witnesses.

At the end of the day, when Tony had gone home, his desk was usually almost obsessively neat. McGee has always assumed it was one of Gibbs’ unspoken rules, but having seen the compulsively neat nature of Tony’s apartment, he was starting to question it. Even the contents of Tony’s fridge had been neat and organized, containing far more fresh produce than McGee’s mother’s fridge had been growing up. Tony’s kitchen was spotless but had the air of being well used. And the surprise – other than the catatonic man standing in the living room with his magically appeared spirit white tiger – had been the gleaming baby grand piano that had pride of place in the living room. When Durga had been threatening to kill them, McGee hadn’t even noticed the piano. But once they had managed to whisk Tony away, all he could look at was the piano and wonder, did Tony actually play or was it one of his many weird quirks? Two guitars hung on the wall, one a battered old acoustic guitar, and the other an electric guitar that had also seen better days. But both had been gleaming and polished, well maintained and well loved. And not replaced with something newer or more beautiful, which also surprised McGee. Too many things about Tony’s apartment did not match up to the surface that he presented to the world.

“So he didn’t even get a chance to put the beer away before it happened,” Abby voiced, interrupting McGee’s thoughts about his Senior Field Agent.

“May I ask what turned up in dear Anthony’s toxicology report?” Ducky asked.

“It was clean,” one of the doctors spoke up.

“Although perhaps whatever it was that might have affected him could have metabolized since he was found approximately sixty hours later,” the other added. They shrugged at each other. Obviously a continuing argument.

“Are there any known drugs that would affect a Guide like this?” Abby asked. “I don’t know of any.”

The two doctors looked at each other and after speaking quietly to discuss, turned to the group and shook their heads.

“No drugs would affect a Guide quite like this,” the Sentinel doctor voiced their answer.

“Can you summarize Tony’s current condition?” Palmer spoke up, blushing when everyone turned to look at him. “His physical condition I mean?”

The doctors recited his condition, summarizing his vital signs – abnormally low respiration, heart rate and blood pressure readings. Completely unresponsive to physical stimuli, other than Gibbs’ touch and voice. No measurable brain functions found during MRI and CT scans, other than the very basics of keeping him alive, and even that wasn’t guaranteed for the long term. They had done every physical scan of Tony’s body and brain to find a medical reason for his condition and nothing had jumped out at them. They speculated that without Gibbs’ presence, it was likely that they would have had to put Tony on life support to help him continue to breathe and his heart to not slow down any further.

The team stared at each other in shock. While they had known that Tony was obviously in trouble, they hadn’t realized just how dire the situation had become.

“One added complication,” Blair said, rubbing his face tiredly. “Agent McGee, Officer David, you remember what Durga looked like on Monday, yes?”

Both NCIS agents stared at the white tiger lying on the bed, head in Tony’s lap. They nodded.

“She’s looking… less healthy,” Ziva said softly.

“That’s correct,” Gibbs said grimly.

Durga growled softly and sneered, whiskers twitching.

“Yeah, we know, you’re a tough girl,” Gibbs said to her, rolling his eyes. He felt strangely at ease in Durga’s presence now.

“We believe that Tony is only still with us because Gibbs is here, anchoring him in our world, and Durga is here, forcing at least a small part of his consciousness to still be here and not loose somewhere else completely,” Sandburg continued. “Once Durga can’t hold on, we believe that Tony will slip away as well.”

“Slip away… as in… he might die?” Abby gasped.

Sandburg nodded sadly.

The expression on Gibbs face when Sandburg finished was stark. Durga growled softly. “No one’s counting you out yet, Durga,” Gibbs reassured her. The white tiger resettled herself on Tony and closed her eyes, seeming to need to rest. “What else do we know?” Gibbs asked his team. “What could have brought this on?”

“Tony was really upset last week,” McGee said softly. “When his father showed up. I was enjoying how messed up Tony was because of it,” he said, ashamed. “Could this be stress induced?”

“Certainly,” one of the doctors answered. “Guides are extremely sensitive to emotions, and if Guide DiNozzo hadn’t even been aware that he was online, then he hasn’t been taught proper shielding and coping. So perhaps, the stress was too much?”

“My question is, how did he hide the fact that he’s been online this whole friggin’ time without any of us, from Sentinel, to Guide, to all the doctors and nurses that have treated him his entire life figuring it out?” Abby asked. “I thought he was a latent.”

“He told Kate and me nobody onlines twice,” McGee admitted. “We thought he was dormant.”

“He was supposed to be dormant,” Gibbs agreed with McGee. “He himself thought he was dormant.”

“So if _he_ thought he was dormant, and SGC thought he was dormant, how did it escape everybody’s notice that _hello_ , he’s been online this whole fucking time?” Abby asked. “How could he not have even known himself that he’s online? I mean, isn’t there supposed to be like, a real defined moment when somebody comes online? All the stories I’ve heard talk about the time before and the time after as being very, very distinct.”

“It is _very_ distinct,” Gibbs said softly, thinking of the traumatic circumstances of his own online event.

“Unmistakably so,” Sandburg agreed. “The difference in being online and not being online is far too great to be ignored.”

All the online Sentinels and Guides in the room nodded in agreement.

“So what makes Tony so different?” Abby continued her line of questioning.

“He was young when he came online,” Gibbs mused.

“How young?” Abby and McGee asked at the same time, exchanging tiny grins at each other.

“The average age a Guide comes online is twenty six,” McGee recited. He liked facts and figures. “And the mean age is actually a little older, at twenty nine.”

“I came online at twenty nine,” the Guide doctor piped up.

“His SGC records are sealed,” Gibbs volunteered his knowledge. “That means he came online and went dormant or was thought to go dormant before the age of eighteen.”

“That’s unheard of!” Vance sputtered. “How is that even possible?”

“Tony never likes to do things the expected way,” Gibbs observed, running his fingers through Tony’s hair.

Ducky chuckled. “Oh my, Jethro. You are quite, quite right,” he agreed. “So our poor Anthony came online and went dormant as a child. Or at least everyone thought he went dormant as a child. And then he had to encounter his father last week. Could that have been the trigger?”

“But Mr DiNozzo was _so_ nice!” Abby objected.

“Was he?” Gibbs asked starkly. His dislike for the man was palpable to everyone in the room.

“Tony looks just like him,” Ziva observed. “The fig does not fall far from the tree.”

“Apple,” McGee corrected her automatically.

“I _know_ , McGee,” Ziva said snidely. “I just like figs much more than I like apples.”

“But Tony was so thrown off by Mr DiNozzo,” McGee pursed his lips. “I mean, my dad was harsh on me and we never really understood one another. And if he showed up at work, I’d be flustered, sure. But I wouldn’t be panicking, I don’t think. And Tony felt to me like he was on the verge of panicking last week. I just chalked it up to Tony not wanting his father to outdo him, or to be you know, more ‘Tony’ than Tony.”

“Yeah, what with the ‘I’m the _real_ Tony DiNozzo’ bullshit from Senior,” Gibbs muttered.

“So what if Mr DiNozzo caused whatever trauma to Tony to make everyone think he went dormant?” Palmer asked quietly. “And that was part of Tony’s issues last week?”

“That lovely man?” Abby was shocked.

“That _lovely_ man left Tony in a hotel room by himself in Maui for two days when he was twelve,” Jimmy retorted. “At the very least, that’s child endangerment. He _forgot_ Tony. He forgot his only child at a hotel far away from their home, and left him there for two days. That lovely man also beat Tony for cutting up his ski suit to make a Halloween costume. Beat him hard enough that Tony said that he couldn’t sit properly until Christmas. That’s not a spanking. That’s a flogging,” Jimmy said harshly. “He was just a child. He didn’t have a costume. With all the money that that _lovely_ man claimed to have, he couldn’t have bought Tony a Halloween costume?”

“I just thought Tony was exaggerating,” Abby whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

“You know what Tony took away from that story?” Jimmy continued. “He was so happy that he’d had an awesome time trick or treating in his home made spaceman costume. _That’s_ what Tony remembers. He had a good time. He walked long distances between the houses in his neighborhood all by himself – he had no one to walk with him and keep him safe, and when he got home he didn’t even get to keep the candy. But yet, the pain inflicted upon him was barely worth mentioning. The flogging he endured. Because he’d had a _good time_ trick or treating in his awesome astronaut costume.”

Everyone just stared at the ME’s assistant, making him blush. But he stood his ground. Tony was a good friend.

“What if the stories Tony told us were the ones that he thought wouldn’t sound bad?” Jimmy asked. “What if the reality was far worse? I can’t imagine that a child coming online can’t have been caused by something truly awful? And then to go dormant even _before_ he became an adult? I can’t even…” he trailed away.

“We need access to his childhood records. Both the regular medical files and the sealed SGC records,” Gibbs told Sandburg.

Sentinel Ellison nodded and one of the doctors left the room. Blair sighed and leaned against his Sentinel.

“I’ve requested lunch be brought in here,” Ellison said, rubbing Blair’s tensed shoulders. “I think you’re on the right track. Whatever is going on here goes back to something in Tony’s childhood. I’ve never heard of anyone, Sentinel or Guide, coming online and going dormant when they were a child.”

“It should be impossible,” the remaining doctor agreed.

“We should look into all SGC records to see if we can identify more people with this pattern. There should be more aftercare, at least, and real effort put into figuring out if they really are dormant,” Blair remarked. “I mean, what if we just don’t understand enough about kids coming online to truly understand the impact? Obviously we all missed that Tony has been online all these years! Something happened during that time that obviously was so traumatic that he even hid it from himself!”

Durga yawned and nodded at that.

“We better figure it out quickly,” Ellison agreed. “Figure out how to get Tony back and then we can look into the possible other cases. Worldwide.”

“First, we get DiNozzo back,” Gibbs growled.

[](http://imgur.com/jgYFPhI) [](http://imgur.com/szXWf34) [](http://imgur.com/jgYFPhI)


	6. Chapter 6

[](http://imgur.com/8GKLpUq)

They chatted quietly while waiting for lunch to be delivered. Despite being in the SGC Center, they had opted to get food delivered from one of Tony’s favorite restaurants. McGee, spurred by Abby, tried to tempt Tony with the smells of his favorite meatball sub, but there was absolutely no change in his vitals. McGee sighed. “Would’ve been too easy if food brought him back, huh?” he said to no one in particular.

The team also watched Tony’s vitals start dropping sharply and Durga nuzzle him anxiously when Gibbs broke skin contact to take a restroom break. The SGC doctors stood, ready to perform emergency procedures, should it be needed, but Gibbs soon returned. He was only gone a few minutes, but Tony’s vital signs had deteriorated dangerously in those few short minutes. When Gibbs returned and resumed his post, cradling Tony in his arms, giving him skin to skin exposure, his vitals gradually improved. Although they were nowhere near normal or healthy, they were at least steady.

Shortly after lunch, the team reconvened when Tony’s medical and SGC records were brought in. His childhood medical records consisted of two folders, each easily four inches thick. In contrast, his SGC file was ridiculously thin. Ducky’s face darkened at the sight.

“These are his childhood medical records?” he snarled. “Why did nobody look into this?” he demanded. “Anthony was a college athlete. That means that he should have been a relatively healthy child. Just the sheer amount of paperwork that was generated during his childhood should signify either a chronic illness such as cancer, or clearly he was a child who was physically abused! Given that he was healthy enough to be a two-sport varsity athlete, I would guess that it is the latter and not the former!”

“See if CPS has records for Tony,” Gibbs told Abby who nodded and began typing on her laptop.

Ducky grabbed the first folder and began leafing through it, Palmer leaning in close as the two looked at Tony’s medical records. Sandburg and the doctors looked through his SGC file. McGee handed Gibbs the other medical folder. Ducky kept snorting angrily as he and Palmer worked their way through his file.

Finally, after the team had handed the records around and everyone had had at least a quick view of them, they looked at each other. Gibbs looked like he was ready to kill someone. He turned to McGee, and nodded at him. “Summarize the SGC files, McGee.”

The junior agent nodded and cleared his throat. “According to SGC records, the DiNozzo cook brought Tony to the hospital when he was f-four years old,” he stammered a little before clearing his throat again. “He was then transferred to the Long Island SGC Center when tests showed that he was online. The cook, Silvia Tucci, said that she finally had to rescue him. He’d been locked in a box about three by three by three feet that Mr DiNozzo kept in the basement to be used to punish Tony,” his voice faltered at this, before he took a deep breath and continued. “That time, he’d been kept in the box with no food or water for two days before the housekeeper stole the key, got him out, and took him to the hospital. He was in bad shape when they got to the ER. By the time he’d been transferred to the Long Island SGC Center, Tony was catatonic.”

“Much like he is now,” Ducky mused.

“He came back somehow, but unfortunately they didn’t document how it was they got him out of that catatonic state. He was screaming and hysterical, ‘out of control’, they reported,” McGee’s voice kept getting softer, trying not to imagine what a four year old Tony would have looked like, screaming for help. There had been a few sepia-tinted photos in the file, and he was sure he would never look at Tony the same again. “A white tiger was apparently trying to protect him at that point, but they went around her. SGC personnel had to sedate him ‘for his own safety’. And when he woke up, they tested him again and concluded that he had gone dormant. The white tiger had vanished, and never reappeared.”

Gibbs was growling angrily, along with Durga. He remembered the image of the SGC personnel drugging a restrained and screaming Tony, the cacophony of noise and light assaulting his senses, before everything went dark that Durga had shared with him. It was no wonder the man had issues with syringes and hospitals. This was way before the plague incident, which was what Tony tended to blame his fear of syringes and hospitals on.

“Why was there no follow up to this?” he demanded. “Why is his SGC file so thin?”

Blair’s face was red with fury. “They covered it up,” his voice shook with anger. “That’s what it boils down to. They covered it up, as much as they could, that a four year old was abused into coming online, and went dormant while in their shoddy care.”

Gibbs and Sandburg stared at each other and nodded. Somebody was definitely going to pay for this. If Sandburg didn’t take care of it, Gibbs was more than willing to pick up the slack, but the look in Sandburg’s eyes was ferocious. Blair was definitely going to personally take care of this.

“So it makes sense,” Abby began. “It makes sense that Tony wouldn’t have known that he was still online. I mean, the line between before and after must be really blurry when you’re that young. For instance, my mom says that I started reading on my own when I was three. I don’t remember it. I don’t even remember learning to read. I don’t remember a time when I _didn’t_ know how to read. The written word not making sense isn’t real to me. There isn’t a ‘before’ that I remember. From my point of view, I’ve always been literate, and it’s incomprehensible to me that any child might remember not knowing what the alphabets were. But I know many of my friends remember not knowing how to read and have a real ‘before’ and ‘after’. But I don’t. Maybe it’s the same with Tony?”

“And if there isn’t a ‘before’ to compare with, and with everyone telling him he’s dormant, maybe he just never realized that what was ‘normal’ to him isn’t normal at all,” McGee picked up Abby’s train of thought with excitement.

“Tony hides all his skills anyway,” Jimmy said matter of factly. “He downplays and deflects everything that matters to him.”

The team looked around nodding their agreement.

“And what about his regular medical records,” Gibbs looked at Ducky. “What does that tell us?”

“Anthony DiNozzo Senior should have been imprisoned a long time ago,” Ducky declared. “There are numerous bruises, sprains, fractures, at least two concussion, and other evidence of physical abuse. All of it was filed under ‘I fell off my bicycle’ or ‘I bumped into a wall’, or ‘I fell down the stairs’ or, and this must have made Anthony giggle at least a little, ‘I broke my fingers when I was putting a VHS tape into my player’.” That last sounded so like the Tony they knew and loved that the team had to chuckle and shake their heads, even though they were more than a little nauseous at the thought of their friend, so young and helpless, being brutalized by his own father. “He was brought in for internal hemorrhaging twice,” Ducky continued. “And just more examples of this that makes me ill to think about it.”

“CPS tried to take him away,” Abby chimed in, reading things on her screen, fingers clicking away on her laptop. “But the DiNozzos were rich and powerful, and had lawyers on retainer. Nothing ever stuck. Tony was just ‘such a clumsy child’, apparently,” her face twisted into a sneer. “No wonder Tony was such a fucking mess when Senior showed up last week. I can’t believe I fell for Senior’s routine. I can’t believe we didn’t see that Tony was trying not to lose his shit. He was trying so hard to keep it together.”

“I should have benched him,” Gibbs said softly.

“I don’t know, Jethro,” Ducky said thoughtfully. “I think if you _had_ benched him, he might have reached this state while we were all busy and we might not have discovered him in this condition in time. I think this was bound to happen. He has bottled too much in for too long. I believe it was only a matter of time that it would have all come to a head. His father’s presence, I assume after many years of estrangement, seems to have been the catalyst. How long have they been estranged? Does anyone know when Anthony last saw his father, before last week?”

Gibbs shrugged. “My guess, maybe when he started college?”

“All the times Tony’s been in the hospital, he never even called,” Palmer snorted. “It goes way back too. Senior never called, not even when Tony got his leg broken in that big football game in college. Tony told me that once.” He turned back, idly flipping through the SGC file.

“I personally called Senior multiple times when Tony had the plague,” Gibbs said grimly. “I never even got a call back, never mind the fucker showing up at his dying son’s bedside.”

Sandburg and Ellison gave each other startled looks and then turned questioningly to Ducky. “The plague?”

“Pneumonic plague,” Ducky clarified. “It’s rather a long story. Bio-terrorism attack caused by one mentally compromised woman wielding a genetically enhanced, antibiotic resistant version of Yesenia pestis. Oh. Perhaps it’s not that long of a story after all.”

Both men nodded, still looking stunned.

“Get this!” McGee cut in. “The Long Island hospital has a pediatric oncology wing that was donated to them by the DiNozzo family. It’s actually called the Paddington wing. Tony’s mother’s family paid for it.”

“They paid to silence the medical personnel as well, then,” Gibbs said bitterly.

“Was _no one_ on Tony’s side when he was a kid?” Abby wailed.

“Sure seems that way,” Gibbs muttered, unconsciously tightening his hold of Tony.

“The physical abuse tapered off after Anthony was twelve,” Ducky flipped through the records quickly.

“Boarding school,” Gibbs said. “He got sent away.”

“Ah, of course,” Ducky nodded. “A few incidents during holidays until those stopped as well.”

“He never went home,” Palmer said. “Tony said he tried to spend his breaks either at his friends’ houses, or even just stayed at school. He said he went to his family’s former cook’s house for Christmas a couple of times.”

“The one who saved him?” Ziva asked.

“Must be,” Palmer shrugged.

“Tony would hate that we now know all this about him,” Ziva said softly.

“He has worked very hard to hide this from us. I am his physician and I didn’t know,” Ducky sighed. “I had my suspicions but I never imagined anything of this magnitude.”

They looked at each other. “Okay. So. Let’s say Senior or exposure to Senior somehow triggered the catatonic state,” McGee suggested. “I mean, Tony ended up in this same state when he was four after what he’d experienced.” McGee couldn’t even bring himself to repeat what had been done to Tony at so young an age.

“The SGC files don’t say anything about how they broke him out of that state,” Gibbs turned to Sandburg. “Find out the details.”

“Get the attending physician from back then on the phone,” Blair told the doctor who stepped out.

The team sat and looked at each other in silence for a long time. They had learned a lot of things about Tony, and none of it was good. And in that silence, came a most unexpected and innocuous question.

“How did they know Tony was a Guide?” Palmer asked.

[](http://imgur.com/u4W4mDa)


	7. Chapter 7

[](http://imgur.com/8GKLpUq)

_“How did they know he was a Guide?” Palmer asked._

Everyone whipped their heads to turn to Jimmy, who was still idly flipping through Tony’s SGC file. His question had been asked softly, almost idly. It had no bite. Jimmy was a mundane and he honestly did not know what the criteria would have been to determine whether a four year old child would have been a Guide when he came online, if he had almost immediately gone dormant.

“Mr Palmer?” Ducky’s voice snapping made Jimmy jump.

“I-I’m sorry, Dr Mallard,” Palmer stammered nervously, realizing that all eyes were on him. His face started flushing. “I mean, nowhere in this file does it say that they were able to test Tony properly to gauge his skills and his level. There’s no information on how they determined that he was a Guide. Isn’t there like some test or something? And he was so little. He couldn’t have even known what a Sentinel or a Guide was, or how being one would feel like, would he?”

Blair turned to look at the SGC medical personnel. One of them spoke up. “The DiNozzos are an old Guide family, and so are the Paddingtons from England,” he looked at Tony’s family and medical records. “Their Guide bloodlines is almost pure. Both families have produced Guide offspring for generations. And when two families like that combine, genetically, the chances of an offspring that’s not a Guide is astronomically tiny. Negligible, in fact.”

“But surely it’s not impossible?” Palmer frowned.

“Well, nothing is impossible. Sentinel and Guide children are often born of mundane parents as well,” Sandburg frowned.

“So it’s _possible?_ ” Palmer insisted.

“Improbable, but not impossible,” Sandburg conceded.

“People who come online also usually undergo tests to determine the extent of their powers. Their levels,” the doctor added.

“But Tony never had any of these tests. He was brought to SGC online, first he was catatonic and then he was hysterical. He was almost immediately sedated, and when he awoke they claimed he was dormant. The file doesn’t indicate that Tony was ever tested any further,” McGee injected, nodding his agreement with Palmer.

“Wait. So are you saying that we don’t actually _know_ if Tony’s a Guide?” Gibbs asked, his mind boggling at this. “That he could be a Sentinel?”

“Is he zoned?” Ellison asked. “Is he a zoned Sentinel?”

“ _Mother of god!_ What a fucking cluster fuck!” Gibbs yelled. “We don’t even know if he’s really a Guide? How in god’s name could none of us have known that DiNozzo was online, or whether he was a Sentinel or a Guide? How could we _all_ have missed that?”

“I have absolutely no idea, Jethro,” Ducky sounded sad and disappointed. “I’m afraid we have all failed this poor young man.”

“Awright. What’s done is done. Let’s focus on what we can do right now,” Gibbs muttered, knowing that Ducky would take it for the apology that it was meant to be. Gibbs was just as angry at himself as everyone else in that room for his own part in not perceiving all the things that Tony had hidden. He blew out a long breath. They had to move past the shock and go back to figuring out what the hell was wrong with DiNozzo. “Right. So. What would we have done differently if DiNozzo was a zoned Sentinel?”

Ducky, the doctors, and Blair all started giving new suggestions, treatments that they hadn’t tried, given that they had been researching a Guide in catatonic state and not a Sentinel. Most of it involved some kind of drug cocktail and they all disagreed on the chances of each treatment’s success.

“What, of those things you’ve just told me, can we try that wouldn’t compromise him if he actually is a Guide?” Gibbs demanded. “Now that we can’t be sure which he is. Durga? Is DiNozzo a Guide or a Sentinel? Can you tell us?”

She gave a very feline shrug, ears twitching.

“Can you project it to me? Like you did your last memory? Or do you need Anubis?” Gibbs asked her. He concentrated and called for his spirit animal. The golden jackal appeared by the side of the bed and hopped up on it, standing at the foot of the bed and sniffing at everyone, scrutinizing everyone present, tawny eyes bright with intelligence.

Durga yowled and growled softly, and Anubis’s ears cocked, listening intently. Then he yipped at Gibbs, howled his hair-raising banshee howl at everyone and laid down, snuggling himself comfortably against Tony’s leg and Durga’s body.

“It’s all right, Durga,” Gibbs told her softly, seeing the tensed muscles on the white tiger. Then he turned to the room. “Anubis says that Durga has been trapped in the spiritual plane by herself for so long that she doesn’t remember or maybe even know the difference between the two.”

“OK. So, let’s say Tony’s a Sentinel,” Ellison said. “There are other non-invasive and non-drug heavy ways to deal with a Sentinel. If Tony’s a Sentinel, then this could be an extreme case of being zoned. If I zone, Blair’s touch is sometimes needed to bring me back.”

“That could be why Tony’s responding to Gibbs’ touch,” Blair nodded.

“If he’s a Sentinel and has been grounding himself on you all these years,” Ellison continued. “How do you keep him in line?”

“Gibbs yells at him a lot,” Ziva snickered.

“I yell at everyone a lot!” Gibbs yelled defensively.

“That you do, Jethro,” Ducky patted Gibbs comfortingly. “Although you know Anthony tries very hard to have you direct your anger at him rather than any other member of the team.”

Gibbs blushed at the bald statement. He’d known that Tony did that, of course, but to have Ducky say it out loud embarrassed him.

“Try yelling at him then,” Ellison suggested.

Gibbs threw up his hands. “You want me to yell at a man who’s catatonic?” he asked slowly.

Ellison shrugged. “You’ve done gentle and it ain’t working, marine. Maybe it’s time for tough love.”

“Fuck me,” Gibbs groaned.

“I’m sure Anthony might like that when he wakes up,” Ducky quipped, ignoring the death glare Gibbs turned on him. “If he’s your Sentinel.”

“I don’t need a goddamned Sentinel,” Gibbs grumbled.

“But’s it is awfully nice to have the right one,” Blair grinned at him before he leered at Ellison, who rolled his eyes and grinned sheepishly, his frown lines softening at his Guide’s expression.

“Right. So, yell at him?” Gibbs asked again, sounding tentative, not something his team ever heard him be.

“Pretend the young man turned up late, and has a hickey visible on his neck,” Ducky advised. “That usually seems to drive you up the wall, Jethro.”

Vance and Ellison were the only ones brave enough to snicker at that suggestion.

Gibbs growled and muttered under his breath before he settled Tony back against the bed, sat himself up, and took Tony’s hand, not wanting to break physical contact since Tony needed it. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered in Tony’s ear, as he geared himself up for it. “DiNozzo!” he barked. “Get back here and explain yourself. _DiNozzo!_ ”

The beeping of the monitors accelerated.

“Holy shit,” Blair grinned at Gibbs. “I think it’s working. Yell some more.”

“DiNozzo! Get your ass in gear and get back to work!” Gibbs’ tone was stentorian, although he was clasping Tony’s hand gently between both of his hands.

“Keep going,” Ducky urged.

“ _DiNozzo!_ Wake up!” Gibbs yelled. “Wake the fuck up, DiNozzo!”

Durga raised her head and yowled, long tail swatting the bedrails, and Anubis seemed to choke with yipping laughter.

“ _What?!?_ ” Gibbs sputtered, face reddening. “I am _not_ doing that! _No fucking way!_ ”

[](http://imgur.com/8lbG8eZ) [](http://imgur.com/8lbG8eZ) [](http://imgur.com/8lbG8eZ)

“What did Durga say?” Blair asked Gibbs. It was frustrating to the Alpha Guide, the most powerful Guide in North America, but Durga had either refused to or been unable to communicate with him or Jim or their spirit guides. She seemed to have no trouble communicating with Gibbs via Anubis, though.

“Not doing it,” Gibbs’ lips were pressed together in a firm line. “And you, you little shithead. You shut the fuck up,” he pointed to Anubis who was definitely yipping in amusement.

“What do they want you to do?” Blair urged. “It might be worth it. Look. The yelling’s helped. Tony’s heart rate is up to almost fifty beats a minute.”

“That would be about normal for Anthony,” Ducky chimed in. “He’s always maintained a low resting heart rate.”

“’M just gonna yell some more,” Gibbs said grimly. “See if that does it.”

And he yelled some more, barking orders, even yelling “Grab your gear!” which made both McGee and Ziva spring up, ready for action.

“You have one hell of a well-trained team,” Ellison said admiringly at that, ignoring the fact that he could hear Gibbs’ mouthed response, comparing McGee and Ziva unfavorably against Pavlov’s dogs. He hid a smile behind his hand. He liked Gibbs. He didn’t like very many Guides. Ellison tended to leave all the Guide sherpa-ing to Blair, but Gibbs, he could handle. Gibbs he understood. Gibbs was all right. He wasn’t the typical Guide who needed to be coddled. Ellison didn’t do coddling. He left that all entirely up to Sandburg. Gibbs, however, was plain speaking and plain grumpy, and with his background as a sniper and a marine, Ellison could relate to him probably more than his Guide could.

But no amount of yelling did anything else. Tony’s heart rate was consistently better, as were his respiration and blood pressure, but when Gibbs stopped yelling, his vitals gradually started to drop again.

“I think, Jethro, perhaps you had better do as Anubis and Durga suggest, whatever that may be,” Ducky said, gripping Gibbs’ shoulder, knowing that his touch would help calm Gibbs a little. He could feel that Gibbs was starting to come undone from yelling at a man in a coma. “This is for Anthony, Jethro. You must do this for him.”

Gibbs growled in frustration, pulling Tony close, gripping him tightly.

“Sh-should we l-leave and give you privacy?” McGee stuttered, suddenly blushing furiously.

“For fuck’s sake. I’m not going to do anything _sexual_ to the man!” Gibbs glared at the junior agent, making him cringe. “We’ve never crossed that line. _Ever_. And seriously? Do you know what that would be, given his current state? That would be _rape_ , McGee. And I am definitely not signing up for that!”

“Right. Of course. S-sorry,” McGee covered his face with his hands.

“Let’s do this,” Gibbs snarled, glaring at Anubis who was still yipping merrily, his amusement more than evident. “Nobody laugh,” he raised a threatening finger at the room. “I swear to god, David, McGee, you laugh and you’re fucking off my team!”

McGee and Ziva nodded solemnly.

Gibbs leaned close to Tony and pulled him up to lean against his chest, both men essentially sitting upright. “Sweetheart, I am _so_ fucking sorry about this,” he whispered in Tony’s ear, choosing to ignore the fact that Ellison, the Sentinel doctor and Vance would be able to hear his whisper, plain as day. He settled the younger man’s head such that Tony’s face was buried in his chest and his body resting snugly against Gibbs’. Here goes nothing, he said to himself, sparing a moment to breathe a short prayer before he barked a loud “ _DiNozzo!!!_ ” and slapped the back of Tony’s head. The thwack of impact was thunderous, and after a collective gasp, everyone stopped talking.

The silence in the room was deafening after that, other than the unchanged beeping of the machinery and Anubis’s continued yips, which sounded like laughter.

“Well. Great. Now I’ve just physically assaulted a helpless man. Thanks a lot, bonehead,” Gibbs grumped at the jackal, rubbing Tony’s back soothingly.

“Uh, Boss?” Tony yawned and turned his head to look up, staring into Gibbs’ eyes. His voice was hoarse from disuse. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“DiNozzo?” Gibbs said stupidly, staring down at the man, losing himself in those vivid green pools that were Tony’s eyes. Had he ever noticed just how green the man’s eyes were? Or did they just seem extra green because of the catatonia and the lack of exposure to them for the last several days?

“Uh, Boss? Why are we cuddling? Did you at least buy me dinner first?” a hint of Tony’s customary sauciness was in the tired grin he gave Gibbs. “You know I don’t put out until someone at least buys me dinner first. I do have _some_ standards.”

A long pause happened where Gibbs’s blue eyes widened at the sight of the now animated Tony. His voice and his brain stopped working for a second. All he could do was just stare down at the man who was blinking slowly, long eyelashes fluttering and fanning his cheeks, red-rimmed green eyes looking weary beyond belief. Gibbs’ arms involuntarily tightened around Tony, smooshing him into Gibbs’ chest in a giant bear hug, an unbelievable sense of relief overcoming him.

“Fuck, DiNozzo! I’m gonna fucking _kill_ you for scaring us like that!” Gibbs growled.

Ellison facepalmed and turned away, shoulders shaking, trying to hide his laughter. And then everyone, other than Tony and Gibbs, burst out laughing, the sound making Tony jerk in surprise, machines suddenly screaming as his heart rate spiked and Durga roared at full volume, her own strength returning, the patches in her coat filling out and she was quickly and visibly becoming more solid.

“Shhh,” Gibbs soothed him, holding on tight as Tony tried to scramble away from him, and from Durga, confusion on his face.

“What’s going on?” he turned to Gibbs, panicked eyes noting their state of undress. “Where’s your shirt, Boss? Where’s _my_ shirt?”

And when their eyes met again, something clicked. An almost audible ping went off. As if a switch had been flipped.

“ _Sentinel_ ,” Gibbs breathed at him, inundated with a feeling of home and belonging and an enormous hum of power emanating from Tony. He gasped, awed at what he was seeing and feeling.

“Guide?” Tony still sounded confused as he was drawn into Gibbs’ blue eyes which were deeper and more tantalizing than anything he’d ever experienced. He tore his gaze away from Gibbs’ eyes, mentally shaking himself from the haze of Gibbs-goodness that threatened to overcome him. He turned his head and finally looked at the ridiculous number of people crammed into the little room. “What the _fuck_ is going on?”

[](http://imgur.com/UlcU0ZL)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. I know. A cliffhanger. I had intended for this to be Part One of a story, and I have quite a bit of Part Two written. However, I realized Part Two was turning out to be a huge story and would require more time to finish. Luckily, Part One was self contained, and so you get this story as my Reverse Bang entry. I will keep working on finishing the sequel (I currently have something like 14,000 words and it doesn't even feel halfway done). So please bear with me. Hopefully you'll get the next part before too long. I even have the title ready for the second story ;).
> 
> Again, I have to thank [sexycazzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sexycazzy/pseuds/sexycazzy) for all of the amazing artwork, especially all of the additional work that you did! The Gibbs and Anubis art was so cool I had to use it twice! I just love the icons too! Also thank you for supporting the story, even though it wasn't the first or second choice pairing that you wanted, as well as all my rambling emails about my inability to choose a title for the story. You really helped me break through that title block, and even helped me already name the second story! :D I really appreciate it!
> 
> A little clarification:  
> * Gibbs is a Guide, his spirit animal is a golden jackal called Anubis  
> * Tony turned out to be a Sentinel, and his spirit animal is a white Bengal tiger called Durga  
> Golden jackals have a particularly funky howl - [click on the play button](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_jackal) below the picture of the golden jackal on the right hand side, to hear it.
> 
> I've been writing this story over the course of a few months, and throughout the process, as I always do, I listened to music. However, nothing really stands out at this time as a main influence on this story. I listened to a lot of different things on my playlist.
> 
> Many thanks to [Jacie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacie/pseuds/Jacie) for organizing this challenge!
> 
> Also - I'll be posting a second, unrelated NCIS Reverse Bang story on Sunday. So I'll see y'all soon! Thank you! :D
> 
> -j  
> xoxo
> 
> EDIT: This is the original prompt. 
> 
> Is there additional art available for this prompt? (yes/no): no but happy to make additional artwork once an author make a claim :)  
> Preferred rating of the fic: Anything from PG to NC-17  
> Categories allowed (Gen, Het or Slash): slash  
> Pairing(s) allowed: Tony DiNozzo/Jimmy Palmer or Tony DiNozzo/Tim McGee are my top preferred pairings, but I don’t mind Tony being paired with Jethro Gibbs if the prompt inspires it.   
> Crossovers allowed (if any): His Dark Materials or The Sentinel   
> Prompt/outline/summary (optional): Fusion with either His Dark Materials or The Sentinel - Tony is hiding a secret until he finds his bandmate/Guide and is forced to reveal his secret.   
> Anything you do not want to see in the story (optional): no major character death
> 
> And again, here's the the [original artwork](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/solariana/7360051/34496/34496_original.jpg). :D


End file.
